


The Experiment

by Anonymous



Category: Ghost Hunt
Genre: Because sex is fucking frustrating for us ace people ok?, Sex Repulsion, a bit - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-28
Updated: 2019-03-28
Packaged: 2019-12-25 16:22:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18265001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: He knew, in the deepest recesses of his mind, that this was a pointless venture the moment he had decided to set upon it.





	The Experiment

He knew, in the deepest recesses of his mind, that this was a pointless venture the moment he had decided to set upon it.

He had always known of his difference to his peers.  Of the numerous ways in which his life, personality, and abilities could never be considered even vaguely equal to theirs.  Many times—most, in fact—he found himself grateful for these dissimilarities.  While they wasted their time with impossible hormones and illogical thoughts and feelings, he had devoted his life to what he found meaningful and compelling.  Beautiful and complex.  Filled with value and purpose.  Usually, this distinction was enough to sate whatever curiosity for the subject he managed to acquire.

However, the small amount of regard he held for his peers began to appeal to his scientific nature.  Quietly and subtly at first, and then increasing to an incessant whisper.  What was it that made those his own age so brainless and carefree?  What was the secret of sex that everyone in his age group—and even those above his age group—seemed to know and share?

He had hoped to find out.

As sex seemed to be such a base instinct for everyone else, there appeared to be no proper instructions about how to go about it correctly.  What sources he did manage to procure spoke of the emotional impact of sex and the many risks of having sex with a partner who carried infection. He could eliminate such a variable by attempting masturbation, but instructions were even more scarce for that.  From what he could tell, the act was often preformed first by following a base need or desire, neither of which he possessed.  There were pictures of comfortable poses, but no instructions for how to perform the deed.

It was incredibly frustrating.

In the end, he had decided to replicate what his research had pointed to as the best methods for getting “in the mood”.  He chose to partake in hobbies that pleased him personally—reading tomes of parapsychology books and critiquing them—spent approximately one hour searching through porn—each one also receiving a thorough analysis and critique—and eventually decided to soak in a large tub.

He had surprised himself by having the perfect temperature of water on the first try, which would have boded well for someone of superstitious beliefs.  He, however, knew that the temperature would be warm enough to relax all the muscles in his body, relieving aches and sores that he had purposefully avoided until that point.  The water had felt wonderful.

Relaxed, he had waited.  He had gently moved his mind to the many images he had seen before entering the tub and willed his emotions to recapture the self-satisfied experience reading had given him.

And he waited.

When nothing happened, he frowned.  He thought that perhaps he wasn’t doing it correctly.  His research had implied that the first time was rife with confusion, a young adolescent reacting to their own body that had been reacting to a stimulus of some kind.  The stimulus he had researched often appeared to be mental…

Perhaps he needed a physical stimulus instead?

He racked his brains for what would constitute as a physical stimulus.  Most of his research dictated that it was not truly difficult to get into “the mood” and that stimuli were often of the mental variety.  Enticing bodies and uplifted moods and items of that nature.  But could he skip that and go straight to the physical?  It couldn’t be as easy as a grab and pull, could it?  Being kicked in the general area before had proven that the act needed some element of care, but going to the bathroom on a regular basis stated that he didn’t need to be _too_ careful.  He wouldn’t break.

Set on his course of action, he moved his hand beneath the water.  He remembered that physical stimuli weren’t just on the area, but on the skin around the area.  Even areas such as the hair, chest, or butt could be considered stimuli.  He decided he would remain localized and intentionally brushed his hand against his hip bone.  It should have helped.

It did not.  In fact, his touch had the exact opposite effect.

Immediately, he felt foolish.  He had been pushing his body for a reaction he knew he was not feeling and hoping—God, he had _hoped_ —to know the chemical wash that was sex.

His attempt wasn’t even a self-driven desire to understand a body that was doing something he did not expect it to.  It was a cry to fit in with a peer group he had never truly liked or understood before.  If left alone, he would have never tried this.  He never would have even _thought_ about it.  And if he continued?

What, exactly, did he want from this experiment?  What would he gain?  Was the idea of an orgasm truly worth putting himself and his body through this?  Through this innate revulsion and frustration?

No.  No, it was not.

He withdrew his hand, scrubbed out his hair, and washed his body before stepping out of the tub.  He toweled off quickly and threw on a clean outfit before setting out of the bathroom to find the one place that would truly be his sanctuary.

When he was thoroughly dry and surrounded by his library, Oliver allowed the notions of sex and sexual reactions to float away from his mind.  If, for some reason, that base urge ever decided to make itself known to him, he would deal with it then.

For now, however, he had work that he would much rather do instead.


End file.
